


15 Ways to Gain a Daughter

by Orion Arthur Rietveld (ameowicafjones)



Series: 15 Ways [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Colonial Canada, Conquistador Spain (Hetalia), FACE Family, Family Fluff, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Parent-Child Relationship, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 20:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6298894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ameowicafjones/pseuds/Orion%20Arthur%20Rietveld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years spent imprisoned in Europe, being kept as a slave by a nation corrupted by his thirst for power and wealth, a young colony is returned to her homeland and traded away to someone new. </p><p>Cecilia Maricruz Fernandez Carriedo is only a child, but she is broken by the time she reaches her new home. She's so used to her life in bondage that she is entirely lost when an entirely new nation unties her hands and shows her the love she's been lacking since she was taken from her tribe. She takes on a new name to match her new place in the world: Madeleine Amity Bonnefoy.</p><p>Madeleine became a French colony believing she was nothing more than a slave, but it only takes a single man to show her the life she lived in Spain is not the life she was destined for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	15 Ways to Gain a Daughter

_One._  
She gazed longingly out the carriage window, watching the landscape pass. Those hills and meadows had been hers to roam freely once. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. She was destined to be kept away from the life she had once loved now. What was the word he’d used? _Slave_. She hadn’t known what it meant at first. Her tribe didn’t have such things, and there was no word for it in their language. Now she understood why. Such cruelty would go against everything her people believed.  
Suddenly, the carriage stopped. He pushed her out, causing her to land roughly on the dirt. A hand reached down and pulled her up by her hair, drawing tears to her eyes. She tried desperately to blink them away before he noticed, but it was pointless. “ _No lloras_ ,” he snapped, striking her cheek hard with the palm of his hand. He then shoved her forward. “ _Marchas_ ,” he commanded. “ _Avanzas_.”  
She knew better than to defy him. She began to walk, dragging her feet in the dirt. Every few seconds, he yanked on her arm, prompting her to change directions, grumbling, “ _Esto recorrido_.”  
Then they stopped. He spoke with another man, then shoved her toward him. “ _Permaneces_.”  
And he left.  
This new man sighed. “He used to be much kinder, but as of late, he only cares about gaining land and riches. I’m sorry he treated you so poorly, but you don’t have to worry about that, because you’ll be staying with me from now on. I don’t suppose you’ll want to keep the name he gave you. What do you think of Madeleine?”  
She didn’t speak, but gathered the courage to look up at the man. He reminded her, in a way, of the first men who had come to her land, who had been kind and respectful. He had the same light hair and blue eyes, and he even had facial hair like they had, though not nearly as much. But he wasn’t like them either. He spoke differently, and instead of furs and leather, he wore clothing of the same materials as they had used in Spain. She had no idea what to expect from him.  
The man looked back at her with a similar curiosity, studying her for at least a minute. “Yes,” he said. “Madeleine. Madeleine Amity Bonnefoy. Now, really, why are your hands tied like that? It can’t be comfortable. Did he always keep you like this? It’s quite unreasonable, really.” He knelt at the girl’s side and loosened the ropes that bound her hands behind her back, letting them fall to the ground. “There you are. That’s much better, isn’t it?”  
_Two._  
She blinked and looked at the man, tilting her head to the side a bit. “Thank you,” she said quietly.  
He smiled. “Why, of course. I’m not a fan of Antonio’s principles as of late. He called himself your owner, yes? I’d say I’m more of a caretaker. Perhaps, even, a father. You can call me Francis, by the way.” He carefully took her hand, studying her raw, inflamed wrist. “Now, come along,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m sure we have something to help that feel a bit better.”  
Francis led her through the settlement, to an infirmary filled with doctors and sick or injured patients. He spoke to one of the doctors, who gave her a kind smile.  
“Madeleine, is it?” the doctor asked. “Monsieur Bonnefoy says your wrists are hurt. Can I look at them?”  
She nodded and held out her arms for the doctor to see.  
Five minutes later, her wrists had been coated in a soothing salve and bandaged.  
_Three._  
Francis led Madeleine away from the infirmary and to the largest house in the settlement. “Are you hungry?” he asked as they walked, looking down at her.  
She nodded.  
Once they entered the house, he brought her into the dining area. “Why don’t you sit at the table while I get you something to eat?” he suggested.  
She sat at the table, looking around curiously.  
He went into the kitchen, returning after a while with two plates full of warm, delicious-smelling food. He placed one in front of her before sitting down with the second.  
_Four._  
She looked at him, waiting for him to tell her she could eat.  
He tilted his head to the side. “You don’t need permission, if that’s what you’re waiting for. There’s not nearly as many rules for you here as you had with Antonio, I’m sure. As long as you’re safe and don’t make a mess of everything, really.”  
She blinked, then nodded and began to eat.  
_Five._  
After they had finished their meal, Francis showed Madeleine to her room. Against the far wall was a handcrafted bed with pretty pink sheets and several fluffy pillows. A desk sat in the corner, a candle and a few matches on its surface. On the opposite side of the room were shelves lined with books, a cushioned chair, and an end table. Close to the bed was a door leading into a washroom, and next to the door was a wardrobe.  
“You have this room all to yourself,” he told her. “If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”  
_Six._  
He smiled down at her. “I hope you’re comfortable here. I know this isn’t much, but I wasn’t sure what you would like. I have some things to attend to, but I’ll have one of the maids draw you a bath, and I’m sure you’re tired from your travels.” He knelt down and hugged her before leaving her by herself.  
Madeleine sat on her bed, swinging her feet, which didn’t quite reach the ground. The room was much more comfortable than her living conditions had ever been in Spain. Maybe she could trust Francis.  
A few minutes later, a young woman knocked lightly on the open door and stuck her head in the room. “Mademoiselle Madeleine? Is it alright if I come in to run you a bath now?” she asked with a smile. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”  
“It’s fine,” Madeleine replied. “I’m not doing anything at the moment.”  
The woman nodded and went into the washroom to get a bath ready for the young girl, calling her in once it was ready.  
_Seven._  
The maid helped Madeleine undress and wash, then helped her into a nightgown and braided her hair. “There you go, Mademoiselle. Do you need anything else?”  
Madeleine shook her head. “Thank you,” she said, smiling.  
“Don’t mention it. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.” The maid left.  
Madeleine, who hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in years, decided to crawl into bed. It was soft, and warm, and comfortable. Nothing like the hard floor she’d slept on in Spain. She fell asleep within seconds.  
_Eight._  
“Madeleine? Are you okay? What happened?” Francis asked, standing in the doorway.  
The little girl sat in bed, panting. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She shook her head. “I… it was just a dream, but it felt so real… I’m sorry if I frightened you.”  
His lips curved into a gentle smile and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “A nightmare. I suppose I should have known you’d have plenty, at least for a while. You’ve been through quite a lot in these last few years, haven’t you?”  
She nodded.  
“Do you want me to stay for a while?” he asked. “Until you can get back to sleep?”  
She nodded again.  
He hugged her and gently stroked her hair. “I promise not to hurt you like he did. I would never do that to you.”  
“I… I know,” she said quietly. She fell asleep in his arms.  
_Nine._  
A kiss on her forehead.  
“Wake up, sleepyhead. Your breakfast will get cold.”  
Madeleine opened her eyes to find Francis standing over her, smiling.  
“Good morning,” he said. “I’ll have Cecilia help you get dressed and bring you down to breakfast, okay? Did you sleep better after I came in last night?”  
She nodded, sitting up in bed. “Yes. Thank you.”  
“Good. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He left the room.  
Before long, the maid from the day before knocked and came in. “Good morning, Mademoiselle! I hope you slept well.” She opened the wardrobe.  
“Yes, I did, for the most part.”  
“Wonderful,” the woman replied. She took out a pretty blue dress. “Here we go.”  
The maid helped Madeleine into the dress, then undid her braid, pinning her now-golden locks into a bun at the back of her head, leaving a few loose curls framing the girl’s face.  
“There you go, Mademoiselle. You’re quite the pretty one, I have to say. Now come along, Monsieur Francis is waiting for you.”  
_Ten._  
They walked to the dining area, where Francis was, indeed, waiting.  
He smiled when he saw the pair. “You look lovely, Madeleine. Thank you, Cecilia.”  
“Of course, Monsieur,” the maid replied. “As always, just call for me if you need anything.” She left.  
Madeleine joined Francis at the table, and the two began to eat, making friendly conversation over breakfast.  
He asked her about her life before she had been taken away to Spain, and listened as she spoke of how happy a life she had lived with her tribe, smiling to himself.  
“You really miss it, don’t you? Living like that.”  
She nodded. “Just being around nature, being out there and being free… it’s wonderful. It’s been a long time since I felt like that.”  
He was silent for a moment, studying her, before smiling and standing up. “Well, come on, then. Let’s not let it get to be an even longer time.” He offered her a hand.  
She blinked, then smiled and jumped off her chair. She grabbed his hand, and, together, they left the house.  
_Eleven._  
It was a sunny day. Not too hot, not too cold. Not that Madeleine would have cared. The two sat together on the bank of the river, the sounds of the settlement just audible from where they were.The tree branches above provided them with cool shade.  
“This is perfect,” Madeleine said, a peaceful smile on her lips. “This is all I’ve wanted since the day I was taken away.”  
“I’m glad you’re happy,” Francis replied. “The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable.”  
“Why do you care so much?” she asked curiously. “After all, we only met yesterday.”  
“Why should it matter that we just met?” he asked. “The way Antonio handled you, as if you were an animal… it broke my heart to see such a young, innocent girl like yourself being treated like that. I could only imagine the pain he’d put you through… You never deserved any of it, I can tell you, and I want to make up for it. I want to give you kindness for every last bit of suffering, and then some. I could tell you needed someone to look after you, and so I decided to be the one to do so.”  
She looked up at him.  
“Thank you.”  
_Twelve._  
Madeleine was still a little girl, so of course she didn’t want to just sit around all day, no matter how nice it felt.  
Luckily for her, Francis was more than willing to play with her, chasing her around the banks and playing pretend with her. They spent hours on the bank of the river, until Madeleine tripped and fell.  
“Are you okay, Madeleine?” Francis asked, several feet behind her.  
She didn’t answer.  
He hurried over to her. “Madeleine?” He knelt down beside her, carefully rolling her onto her back.  
He realised her head had hit a rock, leaving her unconscious, with blood running down from her temple.  
His eyes widened and he scooped her up, running back to the settlement, taking her straight to the infirmary. There, he approached one of the doctors, begging him to do whatever he could to help her as quickly as possible.  
_Thirteen._  
The doctor nodded and set to work, stopping the bleeding as best he could, then bandaging her head. He sent them home with medicine to be given to Madeleine when she woke up, to help with the pain, and some extra bandages.  
Francis carried Madeleine home and tucked her into bed, moving the chair from her desk to her bedside so that he could sit beside her and hold her hand. He knew she wasn’t likely to die, even if she wasn’t a fully fledged nation yet, but he still worried.  
About an hour passed before Madeleine awoke, groaning. Her head was throbbing and her vision blurred. “What… what happened?” she asked?  
“You tripped and hit your head on a rock,” Francis explained. “The doctor says you need to stay in bed for a couple of days. I have some medicine for you, to help with the pain.”  
He helped her sit up, then gave her a dose of the medicine.  
“Don’t worry,” he said, smiling kindly, “I’ll take care of you and keep you company while you recover. “  
_Fourteen._  
The next days passed slowly, but they passed. Francis did, indeed, look after her. He sat with her, reading to her and telling her stories of his home in France. When it came time to change her bandages or give her more medicine, he was the one to do it. And soon enough, she was able to get up again.  
_Fifteen._  
Francis still insisted she not push herself too hard. She wasn’t about to argue, seeing as walking seemed particularly difficult, and her head rushed every time she stood up.  
He had business to attend to around the settlement, so she was sitting at home by herself, reading in bed.  
“Madeleine?” Francis called when he had returned at last. “I’m home.” A few moments later, he knocked on her door, then entered the room.  
“I have a gift for you,” he said with a smile. He sat on the edge of her bed, then produced a stuffed, white toy bear with a red ribbon around its neck from behind his back. “I thought it might help when you have nightmares,” he explained. “That isn’t to say that you can’t still come to me if you need, because of course you can. But hopefully having something to cuddle might help stop the nightmares from happening at all.”  
The girl smiled, taking the bear and hugging it before placing it down on the bed and moving to hug Francis.  
“It’s perfect,” she said. A memory tugged at her brain. It had only happened a few days ago, and yet the words meant so much more to her now.  
_He called himself your owner, yes? I’d say I’m more of a caretaker. Perhaps, even, a father,_ he’d said.  
_Perhaps, even, a father._  
“Thank you,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Papa."


End file.
